Cagle: Friendship, faith smooth jagged edges of tragedy

Jun. 6, 2012 09:38 AMSpecial for The Republic

Everyone needs a best friend in life, someone who can take one look at you and know exactly what you're thinking or needing without you ever saying a word. Susie and I have been that kind of friends since our girls, Megan and Shaelee Clara McDaniel, were in the first grade.

We finish each other's sentences and cry each other's tears. The fact that Susie and I now live in separate states is of little consequence; we simply invest in unlimited mobile-to-mobile calling plans and religiously calendar our bimonthly visits to each other's homes. Our husbands deserve some sort of award for understanding our need to share life together.

Growing up, our girls referred to each of us as "the other mother." Now Megan is our shared daughter, and she has made it clear she wants her other mother involved in her transition into adulthood. I wouldn't have it any other way. Megan calls us both for advice.

For Susie's first Mother's Day without Shaelee, Megan made sure Susie had a card from her. She has already asked Susie to be here when she graduates from college next spring and talks with both of us about helping her plan a wedding someday. (The other mother and I are hoping that's still quite a ways down the road!)

A few weeks after Shaelee's memorial service, I found myself sitting in Susie's hillside-sheltered patio overlooking Los Angeles from the Pacific Ocean to the Hollywood hills. The view was stunning, but Susie and I were busy staring down at an overgrown planting bed, envisioning a special garden filled with a fountain and shades of pink -- Shaelee's favorite color. We dreamed and schemed about plants to fill the Shaelee Memory Garden, even spending several hours at a nearby nursery researching the best specimens.

Weeks later, Susie called to tell me the Shaelee Memory Garden is finished. She buried several of Shaelee's personal items beneath the base of the fountain. As she sips her morning coffee in that space, she watches the water bubble up and trickle down, realizing that sorrow and joy both spring from the same well. At the suggestion of her husband, she has filled the garden with 19 plants, one for each year of Shaelee's life. Bleeding hearts, hydrangeas, hostas, ferns and a Japanese maple are settling their roots into the soil and putting out tender new growth. As she nurtures them, sprigs of new life are beginning to emerge in Susie after such a devastating pruning. Susie is making plans to attend the national conference for the Compassionate Friends, a nationwide support group for parents who have lost children. And during our daily chats, we're both counting down the days to our next visit together when we can cocoon in each other's gardens and homes and do what we do best -- talk, or not. Laugh. Cry. Read. Garden. Cook. Simply be.

Shaelee's death has forever left a hole in our hearts and lives. But day by day, friendship and faith is smoothing out the jagged edges. It's God's gift to us and the gift we give to each other.

The Compassionate Friends: Three Valley chapters of this national support group help families who have lost a child (at any age from any cause). www.CompassionateFriends.org, Westside chapter, 623-561-1881; Mesa-Tempe chapter, 480-785-8114; Phoenix chapter, 602-841-8649.